


Shirts: Tommy Shelby

by twistedrunes



Series: Shirts [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Frustration, Oral Sex, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 11:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15508560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedrunes/pseuds/twistedrunes
Summary: You didn't marry Thomas Shelby to spend night after night alone in bed. But, that's what you had been doing. After another night alone and Tommy's continued refusal to let you help him with his workload, you decide to take matters into your own hands.





	Shirts: Tommy Shelby

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: The Shelby boys reactions to coming home and finding you in their shirt.

Feeling the cold, you shift your body across the bed, looking for Tommy’s warmth. It isn’t there. He isn’t there. Again. Sighing, you lay awake for a few minutes before deciding to go and find him. Not that it would be much of a search. Things were getting ridiculous he had barely slept in weeks now, and it had been near that long since you’d had relations. Slippers and dressing gown on, you head for his office. You push the door open, greeted by the sight of Tommy, head down writing something. A tumbler of whiskey on his left, cigarette hanging from his right hand.

He pauses, looking up from his work “What are you doing up?” He glances at the clock on the mantle. “It’s quarter to two in the morning.”

“What are you doing up? It’s quarter to two.” You parrot back; eyebrow arched in annoyance.

Tommy takes off his glasses “I know,”

You cross the room and lean over the back of his chair, wrapping your arms around the top of his chest and the chair, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. “Come to bed babe.” You say quietly.

Tommy drops his head slightly pressing his lips to your arm “Soon, I just want to finish this first.”

“Let me help.” You say softly, leaning forward slightly looking at the papers.

“It’s right, just leave it,” Tommy says, taking your arm and bringing you to stand next to him.

You rub the back of your fingers against his cheek, taking in the nearly purple tinge under his eyes. You perch on the edge of the desk and shuffle across. Tommy opens his legs, and you slide off the desk and stand between them. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you bend to kiss him. Tommy’s hands are warm on your hips as he kisses you back. You rub your thumbs against his neck. “Come to bed Tommy,” you say unable to keep the reproach from your voice as you kiss your way up his neck.

“Soon,” Tommy says.

“I did not marry you, Thomas Shelby, to spend night after night in bed, alone.” You say irritably drawing his earlobe into your mouth, dragging it between your teeth as you release it.

With Tommy’s breath hot on your neck and his hands squeezing your hips, you think you’ve won. “Honey, I can’t see what I’m doing.” He says, trying to move you aside.

“Okay,” you say lowering yourself to your knees, shuffling yourself back under the desk. You look up at him, tongue running over your lips moistening them. You run your hands up the inside of his thighs.

Tommy shakes his head and takes your hands in his. “I need to concentrate. Go to bed ‘ey.”

You grunt in annoyance and get back to your feet. “It’s been weeks Tommy.” You say before huffing out of the room.

* * *

 

You wake to the smell of fresh aftershave and the warm press of Tommy’s lips on your forehead. “I’m off now.” He says squeezing your arm through the covers.

“Did you even come to bed last night?” You ask knowing he hadn’t, you always stir and snuggle up against him when he does.

“I didn’t want to wake you. So I slept downstairs” He replies.

“Tommy,” You begin.

“I’ve got to get going,” He says beginning to stand.

“Let me come in with you,” you say sitting up “I can help.”

“I’ve got it under control. I’ll come home early.” Tommy says trying to appease you.

“Great, home early so you can sit at your desk here all night. Not even stopping for dinner. Much better.” You say sarcastically.

Tommy just stares at you, eyes icy. It used to be just the colour that was cool, but at this moment it was also the intention behind it.

“I do know what I’m doing Tommy. If you'd just let me help,” You say harshly

“I know.” Tommy cuts you off. “I told you its fine.” His tone matching your own, before standing and heading for the door.

“I don’t even know why you bother coming home.” You snap. “You just work, you don’t have any time for me. Why are we even married? So I can tell the house staff what flower arrangements to put out? Like you even care or notice. We’re meant to be a team, Tommy. We’re meant to be a couple, and at the moment we’re not either. You might as well live at the fucking office!” It’s hard to be properly furious when you’re sitting in bed, but you were giving it your best shot.

“Fuck,” Tommy says, yanking the door open and storming through it.

“Well, I wish we would.” You scream after him. You feel the change in air pressure as he slams the front door on his way out. Gravel spraying onto the steps as he speeds the car away. Of course, you regret your outburst pretty much immediately, bursting into tears and sinking back down into bed.

* * *

At midday, you decide to stop feeling sorry for yourself and to go for a ride. You put on pants and an old shirt of Tommy’s. Pressing the fabric to your face inhaling the smell of him. It still gives you that tingly feeling in your stomach. You ride for hours, stopping at a river to let the horse drink and eat the fresh grass on the bank, before heading home again. While you ride, you think.

You can’t let Tommy keep pushing you out. You understand he doesn’t want you involved in business because of the risks involved and frankly, you’d rather not be faced with the violent reality of that part of your lives. But writing letters and doing the administration was not exactly dangerous and you’d done the work before, it was how you met after all, and if you could help lighten his load there, perhaps you could actually spend some time together.

Arriving home, you have a plan. You’re going to make Tommy realise what he’s missing and why he needs to let you help. Make him see how ridiculous it is for him to prevent you from helping with the mundane paperwork.

* * *

You’re seated at Tommy’s desk when you hear the tell-tale sound of tyres on gravel alerting you he was home. It was only ten-thirty, he was early you think, well earlier than he had been lately. You return to your work, not glancing up when the door opens. You have to suppress a smirk when you hear Tommy’s footsteps stop just inside the door.  

“Hun?” He says.

You look up, “Evening.” You say with a pleasant smile.

Tommy places his briefcase on a chair, and he resumes his walk across the room. “Is that my shirt?” He asks his eyes travelling over you, seated behind his desk, wearing one of his shirts, starched collar and tie. You had fixed your hair up in a loose bun using two pencils you had found in a drawer.

“Hmmm.” You hum with a nod of confirmation as you look back to the papers in front of you.

Tommy stops at the liquor cabinet, “Drink?” He asks.

“No, thank you, I have one,” you say lifting the glass so he can see his cufflinks at your wrists.

Tommy remains at the cabinet as he throws the entire contents of his glass down his throat before pouring another. “So what are you doing?” He asks, removing his jacket and loosening his tie.

“Working.” You say not looking up.

“I can see that,” he says, popping his collar. His tongue, sliding between his lips before he places a cigarette between them. “So why is it you need to wear my shirt to do that?” He asks, his voice noticeably lower.

Unable to tell if his tone is annoyance, or something else, you place your, well Tommy’s, pen on the blotter, looking up to meet his eye. He holds your gaze as he removes his cufflinks, dropping them on the drinks tray, the metal on metal sound harsh in the tense air. You pick up your glass and lean back in your, well Tommy’s, chair. Tommy’s gaze holds your own; he rolls his sleeves stopping just above his elbow. Your tongue darts between your lips at the sight. Regaining your composure, you turn slightly lifting your bare feet onto the corner of the desk, crossed at the ankles knowing your naked calves are now in full view. Tommy’s hard swallow and the slight flare of his pupils exactly the reaction you were hoping for, he lights a cigarette and draws back deeply.

“They’re magic.” You say.

“Magic?” Tommy’s voice is still low his jaw flexes as he blows smoke out his nose.

“They must be,” you say taking a sip of your drink. Pausing as you watch Tommy come towards the desk, his eyes following your legs down to where they disappear from view behind the desktop. “Cause as far as I can tell; it’s the only difference between you and me when it comes to paperwork.”

A smirk plays on the corner of Tommy’s mouth as he rounds the desk, leaning his ass against the edge just near your feet, his gaze running along your legs again. He swallows hard, following the naked flesh until it disappears under the fabric of his shirt.  He uses his index finger to trace along your shin. As his finger reaches your knee, you drop your feet back to the floor and pull the chair hard up against the desk. “So that’s what your doing is it? Paperwork?” He asks eyes meeting yours again. A definite hunger there now.

“Yes. See, I’ve got a lot done.” You say pointing to the papers on the desk.

Reluctantly, Tommy’s eyes leave you and he stands again turning to look at the papers you are pointing to, his hands spread on the desk supporting his weight as he leans over. He picks a page up, returning to his previous position and scans it. “It does seem that way.” He says putting the piece of paper back down and using his foot to push you and the chair backwards. He slides over, placing himself between you and the desk.

You can’t ignore the swell clearly visible in Tommy’s pants, but it only strengthens your own resolve. Placing your hands on his hips, you attempt to move him aside. Tommy plants his feet firmly on the floor preventing you from moving him. He plucks a pencil from your hair and places it on the desktop. “Tommy I can’t see what I’m doing.” You say looking up and holding his eye “I need to get this finished.” Tommy removes the other pencil, and your hair falls around your face.

“You the boss now?” Tommy says, amusement in his voice as he leans forwards and undoes your tie. He drops it on the desk, next to the pencils. You say nothing. “Sounds like it, giving orders like that.” He says meeting your eye, an amused expression on his face.

“I told you, these are magic shirts.” You say.

“Hmmm,” Tommy says fingers sliding past your Adam’s apple to pop your collar. His eyes stay fixed on your throat as his fingers undo the top few buttons of the shirt. His eyes return to yours, and he places his hands on the arm of the chair sliding it back as mouth falls hungrily at the newly exposed flesh on your neck, sucking on it fiercely. But holding back just enough to prevent a mark.

“Tommy, I’m trying to work.” You say not knowing how you managed to keep the need out of your voice.

“Alright then, boss,” Tommy says removing his mouth from your neck as he sinks to his knees. Shuffling forward, he parts your legs, so your knees rest against his ribs. Leaning back on his heels he runs his hands along your thighs, a groan escaping him as he realises there is nothing between his fingers and your need. His thumb glides over you, no pressure, just grazing over the soft curls. Your hips roll.

Tommy rises again bringing his face nearly level with yours, he removes his hands from your legs and begins unbuttoning the shirt. You take the opportunity to enjoy the view. There was nothing you loved more than your husband waistcoat on, no coat with his collar open and his sleeves rolled above his elbows. Your buttons undone, Tommy uses a single finger to part the fabric. He sighs realising you’re not wearing a bra either.   Leaning forward, his arms resting either side of you, hands massaging your hips, he kisses his way down your sternum. Nuzzling the fabric aside to kiss and mouth your breasts. You let out a low moan and slide down in the chair. You feel Tommy’s chuckle in your sex. “You’re meant to be working.” He says.

You snatch a piece of paper off the desk and hold it in front of you, but you aren’t able to stop your free hand from grabbing the back of his neck. Tommy’s eyes meet yours, tongue teasing his lip as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass tugging you down in the chair. Setting you, so your ass is perched precariously on the edge of the chair. You grab the arms of the chair to steady yourself.

Tommy tuts, taking the now crumpled piece of paper from your hands. “You know you were reading this upside down.” You roll your eyes. “Just trying to help, boss,” Tommy says grinning as he reaches up behind his head, dropping the page on the desk. Then lifting your thigh to rest on his shoulder, he spends some time kissing, nipping and sucking on the flesh. You feel yourself sinking deeper into the chair. Tommy lifts your other leg to his shoulder and repeats the process. You slide your fingers into the longer hair on top of his head gripping it firmly and trying to guide the direction of his face. Tommy’s having none of it, deliberately slowing.

“Ugh.” You sigh.

You feel the smile on Tommy’s mouth. “You not happy with my work?” He asks stopping all activity eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Satisfactory.” You say trying to maintain some composure.

Tommy holds your gaze; big blue eyes fixed on you as he licks your sex flat tongued, his hands slipping under your ass, lifting your hips slightly to suit himself.

“Fuck,” you groan unable to help yourself. Tommy smirks and repeats the action. You press the backs of your heels into his back. “Please.” You beg.

Without moving at all Tommy answers “Yes, boss.” Lips and hot breath making your eyes close, your fingers clenching his hair again. He slips the tip of his tongue between your folds, “Mm,” he hums enjoying your taste.

Your head falls back as he starts working your clit, his fingers kneading healthy handfuls of your arse. You open your eyes, to see Tommy’s fixed on you, watching every flicker of your eyelids or twitch at the corner of your mouth. Filled with a burning need to please you. You run your fingers through his hair and blow him a kiss. He kisses you back. The change in pressure and contact causing you to gasp. Tommy smiles the corner of his eyes creasing. You roll your hips again feeling the familiar flutter in your gut.

Tommy sucks you into his mouth, eliciting another gasp from you and causing your back to arch. Under the watchful and loving gaze of your husband, you let yourself go, moving your hips against the suction of his mouth, finding the movements and positions which generated the greatest pleasure. Tommy’s tongue flexing every now and again for another change in sensation. You straighten one of your legs, your foot pushing against the edge of the desk. Tommy releases you briefly, grabbing the arms of the chair and stopping it from sliding out from under you. With a sharp tug on the chair, he pulls you against him, the sudden pressure tipping you over the edge. Your legs tighten around Tommy’s shoulders as your hands tug at his hair, and you melt around him.

As you finally relax Tommy takes hold of your waist and sits you back up in the chair and brings his mouth to yours. You kiss, tongues swirling and pressing against each other as he shares the taste of you. Still panting you collapse against him. Tommy smooths your hair, holding the back of your head gently against his chest as you regain yourself. His free hand, slipping under the fabric of his shirt and onto your lower back, pulling your body against his. “How’d I do boss?” He asks cheekily.

Lifting your head, you kiss his neck at the edge of his jaw, “Satisfactory.”

Tommy stands eyebrow arched. Looking down on you, near naked, sweating slightly and still panting in his chair, a much larger bulge in his trousers and smile on his face as he licks his lips. “Hmmm, I am out of practice, perhaps you could give me the night to work on it.” He says, a genuine smile forming on his face. You can’t help but smile back seeing the dimples you so love making a long overdue appearance. 

**Author's Note:**

> I also publish on Tumblr (including headcanons) https://twistedrunes.tumblr.com


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